Officer Training

"Sir, the captain will see you now, sir!" the private said briskly to the lieutenant.

Jeff Jackson had just arrived in the battery and was reporting to his new commanding officer, Captain Kren.

Entering the Captain's office, he stepped briskly up to a point a few feet from the desk, came to attention and rendered a sharp salute, "Lieutenant Jackson reporting for duty sir!"

Jeff held his salute for the Captain to return it, but the man sitting behind the desk seemed not to notice him as he read through a report. After holding for a minute or so, Jeff dropped him arm to his side. Then the Captain spoke softly, yet menacingly, "I never returned your salute, Lieutenant."

Jeff quickly raised his hand back to touch his right brow and swallowed hard.

"What kind of dick is this guy?" he thought.

The Captain stood suddenly and came around to the opposite side of his desk. He stood close to Jeff, his face barely inches from the younger man's.

"Do you know the reputation of this unit, boy?" the Captain barked into Jeff's ear.

"Uh, yes, uh Yes Sir, I do!" Jeff blurted out, the commander's behavior had unsettled him, he hadn't been treated like this since ROTC.

Nevertheless, he knew full well the reputation of A battery, 9th missile battalion. To be assigned to this battery was an honor and a surefire path to rapid advancement. He had worked hard to get this assignment and he was already off on the wrong foot with the battery commander.

"Drop your arm, boy," Jeff did as he was told, then the Captain added, "You are still at attention, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir!" Jeff stood stiffy as the Captain looked him over.

The older man reached out and straightened Jeff's cover, then he brushed lightly on either side of his collar, flattening the points. Jeff felt a tug at his belt.

"Your tab is mis-aligned, Mister, as is your shirt line."

Jeff couldn't believe the inspection he was getting, "This unit is tough!", he thought to himself.

The Captain undid his belt buckle to readjust the tab and then pulled at his shirt to align it with his pants. He felt a flush of embarrassment rise up his cheeks, like a young boy being dressed for church by his mother.

The Captain went back to his desk and pressed a button on his phone. The duty private's voice came on, "Sir?"

"Send Sergeant Stent in here," the Captain said.

"Yes, sir, rightaway sir!"

Jeff felt the door behind him open and in a moment the NCO was standing at attention beside him.

"Sergeant Stent reporting as ordered, Sir!" the man barked.

The Captain returned his salute.

"Stand at ease, Sergeant, this is your new platoon leader, Lieutenant Jackson."

Jeff stayed at attention as he wasn't sure at this point what to do since the Captain had not told him to stand down.

He felt the sergeant looking at him, then the Captain said, "Lieutenant, you are now going to work with Sergeant Stent here in the way that we do things here at Alpha Battery. When I see you Monday morning the sergeant is going to tell me whether or not A battery is going to keep you. Starting now and for the rest of the weekend you will be the subordinate and he will be the superior, do you understand me?"

"Not completely, sir. I've never heard of this sort of thing," Jeff said cautiously.

"Well, son, this is the way we initiate a new shavetail, but since you don't see it my way I can have your transfer papers ready in an hour."

"No," Jeff blurted out, "I mean, no sir. I mean, yes sir, I understand, I'll do whatever the sergeant tells me to do."

"That's better, boy. Now Stent, take charge."

"Yes sir," the sergeant replied, saluting smartly, then he turned to Jeff, "If you will follow me, sir, the Hummer is just outside."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant," the Captain barked.

Jeff saluted and the Captain returned it quickly this time. He turned smartly on his heel and followed the sergeant out the door.

"You won't be needing anything, Lieutenant," the sergeant told him, "Private Marks will see that your baggage is taken over to the BOQ."

As Jeff climbed into the passenger side of the Hummer he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of foreboding. The sergeant started the truck and they drove out towards the post entrance.

"Where are we going, Sergeant?"

"At this point, Lieutenant, you will only speak when spoken to. When that happens, you will respond in one of two ways, 'Yes, Sir' or 'No, Sir', is that understood?"

Jeff hesitated for a moment, then said glumly, "Yes, yes Sir."

As they drove out the main gate, Jeff returned the gate guard's salute, realizing that for the next forty eight hours that would be the last respect he would see as an officer.

After about an hour of driving it was clear that they were not going to a military facility.

They had passed through the town that adjoined the post and headed towards the hills to the west having turned off the highway and onto a country road some ways back. After traveling a good ten miles further, they turned off the back road and onto a dirt one that was blocked by a heavy pipe gate.

The sergeant got out and unlocked the heavy chain that secured the gate, then drove the Hummer inside.

"Get out of the truck and come back here!" the sergeant yelled to Jeff as he secured the gate behind the Hummer.

"Take off all your clothes except your boots."

Jeff paused for a moment, looking dumfounded.

"Move, Lieutenant!" the sergeant barked.

Jeff hurriedly pulled his BDU shirt off and T-shirt, then he undid his belt and dropped his pants. He had to work a bit to get the pant legs past his boots.

"The briefs, too, boy!"

Jeff pulled his Hanes down to his ankles and stepped out them, the last shred of his dignity gone.

"Put your stuff in this bag" the sarge said as he handed Jeff an OD laundry bag.

Sergeant Stent put the bag in the back of the Hummer then turned to Jeff, "Put these on" he said as he tossed the younger man an ACE jockstrap and a rappelling harness.

Jeff felt stupid getting into just a jockstrap and harness, but he did as he was told without a word.

The final item was a heavy assault pack that must have weighed over thirty pounds. The sergeant tightened the straps on the backpack and harness until everything was snug.

"You follow me and make sure that you stay within twenty feet," he said, then "now drop for twenty!"

Jeff dropped to push-up position and started counting them off, "One, Sir! Two, Sir!..."

"You learn fast, Lieutenant, the Captain will like that, but we are just getting started."

By the time Jeff yelled out "Twenty, Sir!" the sergeant had started the Hummer and was headed down the dirt road. Jeff had to run to catch up with the vehicle and by the time he did he was getting winded.

The Hummer kept a fairly steady pace and by the time it stopped Jeff was soaking wet and breathing in gasps. He hadn't time to think about how he looked running down the road in full-gear with just a jockstrap on.

The dirt road ended at a small clearing surrounded by dense forest. Sergeant Stent got out of the vehicle and walked over to Jeff, who was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Stand up straight when I approach you, Lieutenant," Stent barked.

Jeff snapped to attention, his chest heaving.

"Follow me," the sergeant ordered, heading towards a narrow trail leading into the woods.

They hiked for what felt like hours, the sergeant setting a punishing pace. Jeff's legs burned and his lungs ached, but he didn't dare complain. The pack seemed to get heavier with each step.

Finally, they emerged into another small clearing. In the center stood what looked like a chin-up bar, two vertical pipes rising from a concrete pad with a cross-bar connecting them at the top.

"Drop the pack and stand here, and lose the boots" Stent ordered, pointing to a spot in the center under the cross-bar.

Jeff complied, his legs shaking from exhaustion as he pulled off his boots. He watched warily as the sergeant retrieved what looked like a pair of straps from his own pack.

"Grab the top bar," Stent commanded.

Jeff stood on tiptoes and grabbed the bar as the sergeant quickly wrapped the straps around his wrists and the bar, securing him to it.

"Sir, what are you--" Jeff started to protest.

"What did I say about speaking, Lieutenant?" Stent snapped.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Jeff mumbled.

Stent looped the rope around each of the lieutenants ankles and spread his legs under the bar, forcing Jeff to remain on tiptoes. The strain on his shoulders was immediate and intense.

The sergeant took a slow walk around the bound officer, who was already shaking with the strain of his position. The sun had already started to go down and as the last rays of sunlight faded, the sergeant lit a small fire nearby.

The flickering flames cast eerie shadows across the clearing, making Jeff feel even more exposed and vulnerable. He tried to shift his weight to ease the burning in his shoulders, but any movement only increased his discomfort.

"Comfortable, Lieutenant?" Stent asked with a smirk.

Jeff bit back a retort, remembering his instructions to speak only when spoken to. "No, sir," he managed through gritted teeth.

"Good," Stent replied. "Comfort isn't part of this test."

Sergeant Stent now disappeared into the woods, leaving Jeff alone with his thoughts, but now even more exposed.

The forest came alive with night sounds -- the hoot of an owl, the rustle of small animals in the underbrush, the eerie howl of a distant coyote.

Jeff's mind raced. What kind of unit had he gotten himself into? Was this even legal? He thought about calling out for help, but quickly dismissed the idea. He was miles from anywhere, and he doubted Sergeant Stent would take kindly to such an action. No matter, he thought to himself with resolve, he was going to take whatever the sergeant threw at him.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes caught his attention. Jeff's breath quickened as he strained to see in the dim firelight. Was it Sergeant Stent returning? Or perhaps some wild animal drawn by his scent?

To his relief and surprise, Private Marks emerged from the shadows, carrying a canteen.

"Sir," Marks whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "The Captain told me to check on you. Are you alright?"

Jeff opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated, remembering Stent's orders about speaking. He nodded as Marks held the canteen to his parched lips. He drank greedily and then Marks slipped back into the shadows.

There was another rustle as Sergeant Stent reappeared carrying what looked to be a board of some sort. He held it up in front of Jeff's face and the lieutenant could see that it was a paddle. In the dim light he could see that it was carved with "Launch Platoon--A/9" the unit designator along with a motto "Duty without discipline is not duty."

"Open up," Stent commanded and as Jeff opened his mouth, he pushed the edge forward saying "bite down."

As Mark bit down on the board he could tell that others had bitten down on the board before him, the edge covered in teeth marks.

Stent stepped back leaving Jeff holding the board in his mouth. "It's time for you to meet the members of your platoon."

Jeff's eyes grew wide as out of the shadows he saw eight soldiers emerge, six men and two women.

His heart pounded in his chest as the soldiers approached, their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight. He recognized a few from earlier that day, but most were unfamiliar. They formed a semicircle around him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and something darker that Jeff couldn't quite place.

Sergeant Stent addressed the group. "This is Lieutenant Jackson, your new platoon leader. The Captain has graciously allowed us to initiate him properly to A Battery." A few chuckles rippled through the assembled soldiers.

Jeff felt utterly exposed and vulnerable, acutely aware of his near-nakedness and compromised position. He tried to maintain a stoic expression, determined not to show weakness.

"Now," Stent continued, "who wants to go first?"

A tall, muscular soldier with a high and tight haircut stepped forward. "I'll do the honors, Sergeant," he said with a grin.

The soldier, which Jeff could see was a corporal, reached forward and took the handle of the paddle saying, "If you could let me have this, sir."

"Now then, Lieutenant, this is Corporal Jones." Sergeant Stent explained, "He is going to give you two swats, for which you will count using his rank, which in this instance is quite appropriate." At this the soldiers chuckled.

"I will finish you off with four after the others have had their turn," Stent explained, "giving twenty total, the number of years our unit has been commissioned."

The corporal took position behind Jeff, pulled back and gave him a hard swat with the paddle that brought the lieutenant even higher on his toes.

Jeff grunted and yelled, "One, Corporal."

"Very good, LT," Stent observed as the corporal reared back for his second swat.

The second one was harder than the first and when Jeff yelled out "Two, Corporal!" he wondered if he could take eighteen more on his bare backside.

"Private Chen, you're up," Stent ordered, and an asian woman stepped forward and took the paddle from Jones. Her two swats were not nearly as hard as the corporals had been, but now Jeff's backside was reddening as well as his face because as the private stepped forward her eyes had been riveted to the well-filled pouch of the jockstrap he wore.

Jeff's face burned with shame as Private Chen stepped back, her eyes still lingering on his exposed body, his chest framed by the tight fitting harness. He had barely caught his breath when Sergeant Stent barked out another name.

"Specialist Rodriguez, you're up."

A wiry young man with a crooked grin stepped forward, taking the paddle from Chen with obvious relish. Jeff braced himself, knowing this one would hurt.

As he approached Jeff, he leaned in close to whisper, "Welcome to the unit, Sir," before stepping back to swing.

Rodriguez didn't disappoint. The first strike landed with a resounding crack that echoed through the clearing.

"Five, Specialist," Jeff managed to grunt out between gritted teeth.

Then Sergeant Stent stepped forward with a short stick saying  "Here LT, bite on this."

The second blow came even harder, and Jeff couldn't suppress a muffled yelp.

"Six, Specialist," he gasped from around the stick he was biting, his backside now throbbing intensely.

The initiation continued and Jeff began to lose track of the faces and names. As the last of the platoon members finished, Jeff's legs shook from the strain of remaining on his toes. Sweat dripped down his face and chest, mingling with the tears he'd been unable to hold back.

Finally, only Sergeant Stent remained. The older man hefted the paddle, testing its weight.

"You've done well so far, Lieutenant," he said, his voice low, "But these last ones will test you. Remember why you're here."

Stent's first strike buckled Jeff's knees and he barely managed to grunt out "Seventeen, Sergeant!"

The final three blows came in rapid succession, each more punishing than the last. Jeff's entire body tensed with each impact, his muscles straining and his legs quivering. He managed to choke out the count through teeth clenched tight on the stick, his voice hoarse and strained.

"Twenty, Sergeant," he gasped, his body trembling from exertion and pain.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Jeff's ragged breathing. Then, to his surprise, a round of applause broke out among the soldiers.

Sergeant Stent stepped forward, his face unreadable in the firelight.

"Well done, Lieutenant. You've passed the first test," as he reached up and gently removed the stick from Jeff's mouth before releasing his ankles and wrists. As the restraints were removed, Jeff stumbled, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. Stent caught him, steadying him with a firm grip on his shoulders.

Jeff felt a rush of relief, quickly followed by confusion. First test? There was more?

As if reading his thoughts, Stent continued, "This unit demands more than just physical toughness. We need leaders who can think and act under stress. Get your boots back on."

While he pulled his boots on he noticed the soldiers fading back into the woods. Stent handed him a protein bar and a sports drink saying "Here, you are going to need some energy."

Jeff gratefully accepted the protein bar and drink bottle, wolfing them down as he laced up his boots. His backside throbbed, but he pushed the pain aside, focusing on what might come next. As he finished, he saw that Sergeant Stent was holding a small backpack.

"Your next challenge," the sergeant said, handing Jeff the pack. "Inside you'll find a map, compass with light, and a set of coordinates. Your objective is to reach the rallying point before dawn."

Jeff's heart sank. He was exhausted, in pain, and now he had to navigate unfamiliar terrain in the dark and pretty much naked? But he squared his shoulders, determined to see the initiation through. After getting his bearings and consulting the map, he headed out of the clearing.

"One more thing LT," Sergeant Stent shouted after him, "The platoon is out there armed with paintball guns. Their mission is to thwart yours!" he laughed, then added, "They each have one round, just to keep it fair."

Jeff's heart raced as he plunged into the dark forest, adrenaline temporarily overriding his exhaustion and pain. He moved as quietly as possible, hyper-aware of every snapping twig and rustling leaf. The cool night air raised goosebumps on his nearly naked body.

After about fifteen minutes of cautious progress, Jeff paused to consult his map and compass again. He was fairly certain he was on the right track, but the darkness and unfamiliar terrain made it difficult to be sure. Just as he was about to move on, he heard a faint noise to his left.

Instinctively, he rolled to the ground, barely stifling a groan as his bruised backside made contact with the forest floor as a paintball whizzed overhead, splattering against a nearby tree trunk.

"Dammit, Rodriguez! You gave us away!" Chens voice hissed in the darkness.

As Jeff scrambled to his feet and took off running, he heard Rodriquez laughing, "At least I don't have a light trigger finger like you Chen!" then, "Hey Sir, I'm gunning for you."

Jeff sprinted through the forest, heart pounding and branches whipping against his exposed skin. He could hear Rodriguez and Chen crashing through the underbrush behind him, their pursuit hampered by the darkness.

He veered sharply to the right, hoping to lose them in the dense foliage. As he ran, his mind churned trying to recall the map details he'd hurriedly memorized. There was a small creek ahead -- if he could reach it, he might be able to throw off his pursuers.

Suddenly, his foot caught on an exposed root, sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. He bit back a cry of pain as he landed hard on his already bruised body. For a moment, he lay there, winded and disoriented.

"I heard something over there!" It was Jones, the burly corporal that had given him his first swats earlier.

"I heard it too," said another voice that might have been Private Johnson.

Gritting his teeth, he got up cautiously and headed quietly away from the voices.

Jeff crouched low, trying to move silently through the underbrush. He could hear Jones and Johnson moving closer, their footsteps crunching on the forest floor. He held his breath, hoping the darkness would conceal him.

"I swear I heard something fall over here," Jones muttered, his voice unnervingly close.

Jeff tensed, ready to bolt if discovered. Suddenly, a twig snapped beneath his foot.